


joy (when you call me)

by platonics



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fake Character Death, Nonbinary Character, One Shot Collection, Other, Post-Canon, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 03:32:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19737448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonics/pseuds/platonics
Summary: vaguely summer-themed himikiyo oneshot collection





	1. fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't get a chance to do dr rarepair week last year, so since it isn't being held again, i just did it myself with last year's prompts :9  
> various aus, mostly post-game

Himiko didn’t like crowds. They made her nervous, stomach squiggly and fingers itching for something she’d be able to defend herself with, just in case. Rantaro had bought her a wand when he was away traveling, a delicate thing of polished wood with vine-like carvings along it. She thought he was fucking with her at first, making fun of her, and had almost gotten as far as storming away before he convinced her that no, he just thought it was pretty and that she might like it. She did.

She kept it with her almost all the time, unless she was going somewhere it might get broken. It felt grounding, and besides, Rantaro smiled and got a soft sort of look in his eyes whenever he saw her holding it, so she liked that too. He’d never said so directly, not to her, but Himiko thought he might miss having sisters. That was okay, because she’d never had siblings, in the real world or in Danganronpa, but she wanted to. So Rantaro was kind of like her brother now. Shuichi too, but differently. Shuichi was one of her closest friends, and she’d trust him with her life without a doubt, but it was more...even, she supposed. Rantaro was more of the stereotypical big brother — the advice, and gossip, and a hug or a kiss on the forehead whenever she needed it.

It was nice having family, but not even her magic wand could give her the bravery to go to the local festival and be among all those people.

So she sat on the floor of the balcony instead, leaning back against the wall of the building and hugging her knees to her chest. Himiko could see people wandering the streets below, talking and eating and playing games as if it was the easiest thing in the world. They looked so small from up here, like blurry little ant-people, only the bright blobs of color from their yukatas easy to make out.

She stretched out one leg, sock-clad toes pressing against the metal balustrade with its chipping paint, and murmured hello to it. The balustrade was nice, like a friend. That wasn’t the sort of thing Himiko could say out loud without getting pitying looks, so she didn’t, but it was true. The balustrade was sturdy and decorative and _there_ , so every time she thought about climbing over it, she imagined it giving her a reproachful look, as if asking her to reconsider, and she didn’t. It didn’t scold her for thinking about it though. It didn’t judge.

“Who are you talking to?” The voice came from behind, and slightly to her right. Himiko turned to look, needing to crane her neck to meet Korekiyo’s eyes. They stood in the doorway, holding her favorite mug. They looked almost otherworldly in the dark like this, soft light from the kitchen offering the slightest bit of illumination. It made her think a little of overpriced CGI effects, a pale blue glow, but the kitchen light was warm, not cool, and she didn’t live in that world anymore.

“No one,” she said. “Well, you, now. How do you think the person who invented balconies thought of the idea in the first place?”

“I don’t know,” they admitted. “Human ingenuity is truly remarkable, isn’t it? I’m sure you could find the answer quickly enough, however.”

“Yeah, I know, but it’s more fun to ask you first.” Kiyo wasn’t the veritable encyclopedia of human knowledge they’d been in the killing game, but they still knew quite a bit, and were constantly reading. They never minded her out of the blue questions, and if they were tired and relaxed enough, would respond with equally pointless questions of their own. 

“Mm. I brought you some tea.” They stepped out onto the balcony and passed her the mug, steam still wafting from the hot tea. Himiko took it and set it down on her other side before reaching back up to grab Korekiyo’s hand, keeping them there.

She could hear more than see the smile on their face when they asked, “Would you like some company?” She nodded, because of course, why else would she be holding their hand? 

“Yeah. The fireworks are starting soon, I think.” 

They sat down next to her, stretching an arm up to push the sliding door closed, so the cat wouldn’t try to join them. Even as friendly and protective as the balustrade was, Himiko didn’t like him getting on the balcony. With that done, Kiyo settled their arm around her waist instead, and she leaned into them, sipping her tea.

Sure enough, the fireworks started soon, lighting up the dark sky with bright flashes of color. As she watched, Himiko looked at Korekiyo out of the corner of her eye, heart warm at the sight of their smile. Seeing them happy and relaxed still felt like a rare treat to be savored.

“They really are beautiful,” she murmured, gazing up at the blue and green sparks that were currently flying through the air.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Korekiyo said, voice entirely serious.

“Oh, shut up,” Himiko said around a laugh, leaning her head on their shoulder. “How are you just naturally that smooth?” 

In the distance, the crowd cheered as more fireworks went up, jostling for better positions. Personally, Himiko was fine right here.


	2. flowers

Himiko had never realized how fascinating the language of flowers could be. Floriography — even the name was pretty. She didn’t know all the nuances yet, hadn’t looked up the more obscure flowers. She only had a casual interest, after all, and a quite recent one at that. However, she knew some of the basics.

Red roses for love. Peonies for bravery. Chrysanthemums for truth. Lilies for death and funerals.

She could probably become a florist that specialized in lilies at this rate, given how much she’d learned about them. All the varieties, how to make them last the longest, the most beautiful arrangements...Sometimes it felt like lilies were her whole life. She brought fresh bouquets to the cemetery every few days. Some of the other frequent visitors were beginning to recognize her, sparing a moment to acknowledge her even in their mourning.

Lilies for death. The cut glass of the vase was beginning to get dusty with orange pollen. Unthinkingly, Himiko tried to wipe some of it away, only to wind up staining her hands instead. With a frustrated sigh, she wiped them on her pants, deciding to deal with it later. It was absurd to even care if anything here was dusty, since she was the only one who visited.

She traced a finger over the precisely carved kanji on the gravestone, wondering who had paid for it. Team Danganronpa maybe, after how badly things had turned out for them. They needed some sort of good PR, and providing funerals for everyone would do that. A crow squawked loudly as it took flight from a nearby tree, and Himiko startled, scraping her knuckles on the edges of _‘Shinguuji.’_

“Shit,” she hissed, ignoring the dirty look she got from a nearby grandmother. It was debatable whether it was because she swore or because she was at Korekiyo Shinguuji’s grave. Either one was possible. Lifting her hand up to inspect the damage, Himiko grimaced as she saw that her hand was actually a little bloody now. Who knew marble was that sharp? Realizing just in time that she shouldn’t touch it with her fingers still stained with pollen, she settled for just shaking her hand out a little, waiting for the stinging to fade.

Well, it was about time to go anyway. She’d stayed long enough to seem respectable, and the bus would be coming soon. She got to her feet and headed back towards the entrance, forcing a smile when she passed the woman who’d been glaring at her. 

There were still posters for Danganronpa 53 on the bus, peeling and faded. Himiko kept her head down, acutely aware of her face on the walls, but nobody spoke to her today. Either they didn’t recognize her, or they simply didn’t care. By the time she got to her stop, it was raining lightly.

She hadn’t brought an umbrella, so her hair was dripping when she got home, but the rain had at least washed the blood and pollen off her hands. Himiko nudged the door closed with her foot, making a halfhearted attempt to wring out her hair.

“I’m back,” she called out. No response. Himiko rolled her eyes, ambling into the kitchen. There was a pizza box on the table that hadn’t been there when she left. There was only once piece missing, but it must have been there awhile, the pizza merely room temperature now. She shrugged and grabbed a slice anyway. 

“You got pizza without me? What did you do when the delivery guy came?” she asked, still shouting across the apartment as she flipped through the stack of mail on the counter. Eventually, Himiko wandered in the direction of the bedrooms, eating her pizza as she walked.

The neighbors probably thought she was crazy, talking to herself all the time. She lived alone. Officially anyway. She paused in one of the bedroom doorways, leaning against the frame and gazing fondly at the figure on the bed, dark hair like an inkblot against the white pillowcase.

“I did nothing. He didn’t appear to recognize me, so I believe it was worth the risk to get some lunch. However, making myself presentable took more out of me than I expected, so I needed to rest after eating.” Their voice was still heavy with sleep, and they slowly sat up and stretched, wincing as they did.

“Yeah, and I bet you didn’t take your pills either,” she scolded, trying and failing to keep the fondness out of her tone. “I would’ve gotten food on the way home if you just texted me.”

“It’s fine. The pain isn’t too bad today, and in any case, I think it’s only fair I endure it.”

“Don’t be such a martyr,” Himiko muttered under her breath, going to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Where were you, anyway?” they asked, pointedly ignoring her last comment. “I didn’t think Harukawa was the sort to visit for quite that long.”

“She’s not. Almost an hour of it was going to the florist’s and stuff and visiting _your_ grave, so it’s your fault I was out so long,” she said. Korekiyo laughed, lifting one bandaged hand to brush a few strands of hair out of their face.

“Well then, my apologies for inconveniencing you,” they deadpanned. “I’m sure my spirit appreciated the visit.”

Danganronpa executions were flawlessly designed. Nobody had ever survived one. Officially, anyway.


	3. heat

“Ugh. It’s so hot.” Himiko flopped back onto the bed, silently willing the air conditioning to kick on already. She supposed she should be lucky there was air conditioning in the hotel room at all, even if it currently wasn’t helping. Her boyfriend was likely to blame for that. She’d never met anyone else with such an intense dislike for air conditioning, but she was gradually learning to live with it.

“We’re on a tropical island in the middle of summer. I believe that’s to be expected.” 

Himiko rolled her eyes. Korekiyo could be sarcastic all they wanted. She could still tell that the heat was getting to them too. They’d tied their hair up in a bun and had made the concession of not wearing quite as many layers as usual. They looked a million times better than Himiko imagined she did, as usual.

“Yes, I _know_. That doesn’t make it any more enjoyable. I like summer, but this is just too much.”

“Well, aside from dinner with everyone later, we don’t have any obligations today. There’s nothing stopping us from simply relaxing here.” Korekiyo sat down on the bed next to her, combing their fingers through her hair.

“Mm? I figured you’d be all eager to explore and stuff,” Himiko mumbled, moving to rest her head on their lap so they could play with her hair more easily. “You love seeing new places.”

“It’s true that this island undoubtedly has all sorts of anthropological wonders to discover, but we have plenty of time to do that another day. For tonight, I’m happy to stay right here if that’s what you’d like.” Kiyo smiled down at her, looking utterly content. That was one of the many things she loved about them. If they offered to do something for her, they never acted like it was a burden. She was rather ashamed to admit that she couldn’t always say the same for herself, but she did her best. The two of them were usually on the same page anyway.

“That’s the best thing you’ve ever said,” Himiko murmured tiredly. “The only thing that would make it better is if it was a little cooler in here.”

They pursed their lips, saying nothing, and she scoffed. It was what she’d been expecting. 

After just laying there for awhile, soaking in the silence, she said, “I can’t believe we’re old enough for our friends to be getting married. It’s so weird.”

“It seems like just yesterday we were all in high school together,” Korekiyo replied. “And now here we are, successful adults, attending a wedding in a couple of days. I wonder...perhaps that will be us someday?” Their voice grew slightly quieter towards the end, hinting at the embarrassment and hesitance they might be feeling. Himiko nodded, smiling up at them.

“Definitely. If you want it to be, that is. I think it’d be nice to get married eventually. We’ve been together for so long, I can’t imagine being with anyone else.” If Angie was getting married, then there was no reason she couldn’t. Not too soon, of course. Doing something like planning a wedding seemed awfully intimidating. But someday.

“I feel exactly the same way.”


	4. go out

“The green one, definitely. Green looks nice on you.” Himiko moved closer as Korekiyo flipped through the nearby rack of clothes, wrapping her arms around their waist. After a moment’s pause, they nodded and took the shirt she’d recommended.

It was refreshing to be able to consider going to the mall serious business. They’d both had more than their fair share of genuinely serious situations, and this was a well-earned reprieve. There were still plenty of lingering reminders of their time on Danganronpa — hyper-vigilance, discomfort whenever they were apart for too long, and that wasn’t even getting into treatment from other people, both in person and online.

They were together, and that was what mattered. Plus, they had more money than they knew what to do with, so a little retail therapy was entirely reasonable.

“Yes, I think you’re right,” Korekiyo murmured. “It’s always been one of my favorite colors.”

With some reluctance, Himiko unwrapped her arms from around them, grabbing their hand instead as the two of them wandered between the displays, occasionally stopping to look at an item here or there. A thought coming to mind, Himiko plucked a bright lemon yellow dress from the rack, holding it up. 

“Angie would like this,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips. It was getting easier to talk about their friends, with time. “Eyeburningly bright is a good thing for her.” Kiyo didn’t correct her use of the present tense, and she loved them all the more for it.

“Are you implying I wouldn’t be able to pull it off?” they deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. “I guess I have to step up my game.”

Himiko giggled, making a show of looking them up and down, as if genuinely trying to decide. 

“Maybe just a _little_ less bright,” she said, lifting her hands to indicate the amount as she tried to stifle her laughter.

“But whyever wouldn’t someone want to wear something that’s painful just to look at?” Their voice sounded utterly serious, but Himiko could see them smirking under their mask. Caught up in amusement as she was, she didn’t even notice that they were being watched. A few teenagers were gathering a short distance away, nearly all scowling.

“Hey, aren’t you those freaks from Danganronpa?” The heavy drawl came from uncomfortably close by. Himiko’s face fell, slowly hanging the dress back up. The public harassment had started to die down, but apparently not enough. The whole thing was rather ironic, she thought, considering this kid had clearly taken his style cues from Kaito.

She faltered, about to tell him to leave them alone, but she never got the chance. Slowly, Korekiyo turned on their heel, fixing the stranger with a piercing glare. Already, some of his confidence seemed to be waning, a hint of fear in his eyes.

“If you recognize us, then I’m sure you must be aware I know fifty different ways to kill you, should I want to.”

“What the hell’s your problem, man? I didn’t do anything to you.” The confident drawl from before had been replaced with a pathetic, vaguely whiny tone, and Himiko smirked. It never stopped being funny how Korekiyo could make people back down so easily. She wished it wasn’t necessary, of course, but as long as it was, why not get some amusement out of it?

“Ah, but _I’ll_ be doing something to _you_ if you don’t leave us alone in the next twenty seconds.”

Sure enough, the boy stalked off, muttering under his breath. It worked every time. The light, happy mood from earlier had faded, but at least these incidents weren’t as upsetting as they used to be. Himiko forced a weak chuckle, leaning against Korekiyo. Without even looking at them, she knew they were feeling the same complicated mix of emotions she was.

“Maybe this was enough time out for today,” she murmured. “Wanna go home?”


	5. au

Tsumugi was absolutely right. It was a sentence Himiko didn’t think she’d ever find herself thinking, given how aggravating her roommate was to live with on a daily basis, but it seemed she knew a thing or two about romance.

“Why _can’t_ your life be like a cute anime?” Tsumugi had asked over takeout the other day. Himiko had just rolled her eyes and not bothered to answer, but maybe there was actually something to it. Sure, real life could never be quite as perfect as fiction, but even unlikely scenarios happened once in awhile. So why couldn’t she pretend that she was the star of a slice of life series to get through the monotony of the day?

Her current unlikely scenario was proof enough of that. Though she’d long since finished her coffee, she couldn’t stop staring at the paper Starbucks cup, running her thumb over the writing there. The Sharpie ink was beginning to smudge from how much she was touching it, but she’d already taken a picture, so it was okay.

A phone number and a little heart doodle. So simple and yet so thrilling. Developing a flirtation with a barista sounded like it was pulled straight from one of Tsumugi’s favorite series. It was too cliche to be true, and yet...

She was a regular at the Starbucks on campus, but that was nothing unusual. Plenty of students got their coffee fix there every day. Likewise, it was only natural that since she usually went at about the same time of day, the same employees were often there as well. Before long, they’d become familiar faces. Perfectly normal.

Korekiyo Shinguuji, however, wasn’t normal at all. The two of them saw each other fairly often, due to both Korekiyo’s job at Starbucks and the anthropology class they shared this semester. That gave Himiko plenty of opportunities to observe, and in the process, she’d gotten a little attached. They occasionally chatted about tests or homework assignments, and exchanged greetings as she ordered her coffee in the mornings, but nothing particularly deep. It was a hopeless crush, and she’d said as much to Tsumugi.

Until today. Himiko had been confused by what Kiyo said when they handed over her coffee. What could ‘This is customary, if I’m not mistaken,’ possibly mean? She thought they may have been making a joke about her distraction, cluing her in to the fact that her drink was ready, but once she’d left and started to drink it, she noticed the extra writing on the cup. The only question now was what to do with it.

Ultimately, she settled on sending a simple ‘hey, it’s yumeno.’ Just typing those three words was enough to make her start trembling with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation.

‘Hello, Yumeno-san. I hope your day’s going well?’

‘very, especially after seeing you.’ A smile began to spread across her face, and the nervousness faded away. Clearly they enjoyed talking to her, or they wouldn’t have given her their number in the first place.

‘I’m happy to hear that. I thought a time honored tradition such as that would be an appropriate way to give you my number without there being any pressure to contact me if you didn’t wish to. The only downside is that I would have liked to see your reaction, I admit. I’m certain it would have been beautiful.’

‘i’m not sure about that. i’m not that beautiful lol’ Just as she was thinking it was good they couldn’t see her blushing right now, Himiko caught sight of someone walking through the nearby courtyard. A closer look revealed that sure enough, Korekiyo was the one passing by.

‘maybe you could find out now though,’ she added impulsively, continuing to look in their direction. She stifled a giggle when she saw them look up from their phone and glance around, noticing the exact moment they caught sight of her. Himiko offered a little wave, grinning. Rather than coming closer, they turned their attention back to their phone, and a moment later, another message popped up on her screen.

‘Then perhaps you’d like to make plans for this Saturday?’

The instant she read it, she couldn’t stop herself from grinning even wider. This was the last thing she expected when she woke up that morning.

‘i’d love to.’ A moment passed after that, and then another. Himiko finally looked up to find Korekiyo walking in her direction. 

“I knew it would be beautiful,” they said. “You’re one of the best examples of humanity I’ve ever had the chance to observe.”


	6. past

_Nostalgia (n): a sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations._

Everyone experienced nostalgia from time to time, but Himiko had always felt as if she experienced it more than most. Or, no, that wasn’t quite right. Not always. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint when it started, but she supposed it must have been a year or two ago, around the time she auditioned for Danganronpa. 

Her nostalgia didn’t quite feel normal either. There were no solid memories tied to them. She’d felt normal nostalgia enough times to know the difference. Even though they were based in the same sort of wistfulness, remembering a happy event from her childhood was worlds away from this...crippling, inexplicable sensation. Every so often it would wash over her unexpectedly, triggered by a mundane scent or sound, and it felt like someone had punched her in the stomach.

Himiko had never been the kind of person to have many friends. It was lonely sometimes, but she didn’t mind it much. Even what few friendly acquaintances she did have began to distance themselves as it became harder and harder to hide what she felt. Everyone was so quick to call her weird, to say she was too caught up in fantasies, as if it was some work of fiction she could push aside.

How could she feel so homesick for something she’d never had in the first place?

All she had were wisps, brief hints at memories, or sensations that immediately brought those emotions to the forefront. It felt like something had been stolen from her, but what, she didn’t know.

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Maybe if she just focused hard enough...Someone shoved her from behind. Moment of peace rudely interrupted, Himiko turned to see who had done it, but they were already gone. She sighed, stepping into the nearest store. Stopping in the middle of the mall walkway hadn’t been her smartest idea anyway.

It was much more peaceful here anyway. She wandered through the store, nearly devoid of other customers. Music played softly in the background, and the lights were dim, making the whole place seem slightly eerie. She liked it instantly. Not paying any particular attention to where she was going, Himiko soon found herself standing in front of a display of incense and potpourri. Yes. Incense felt...right, somehow. She couldn’t pinpoint a particular scent, but she knew there was something smoky among the collection of things that brought her comfort. Incense, ink, old books...The chemical scent of nail polish and the slightly rough texture of gauze bandages. All things she never used to have any special affinity for.

She chose two boxes at random and walked up to the counter. Maybe it would help.

It did, in a manner of speaking. When she was curled up in her room at home, incense burning in the corner, the wafting smoke felt almost like she was being wrapped up in a hug. On the other hand, it only intensified the longing. Himiko laid there for hours, on the verge of tears and searching her mind for something, anything.

She caught glimpses sometimes, when she was in that state halfway between sleep and consciousness, unable to tell if they were dreams or memories. Long, dark hair, still damp from a shower. The sharp edges of a book against her cheek from where she’d fallen asleep against it. Sunlight filtering in the window. None of it tangible enough to hold onto.

She kept going back to the mall, wandering aimlessly in search of anything that felt like the missing pieces of the puzzle. Someone asked her what was wrong once, saying she looked sad. Himiko meant to say it was nothing, that she was just tired, but the words that slipped out instead were, “I miss my boyfriend.” She didn’t have a boyfriend. She’d never had one, in fact.

She dwelled on that thought for a long time, sitting on the edge of the fountain in the massive, open foyer. Countless people passed by, families, couples, all of them entirely wrapped up in their own lives. She sighed and stretched out along the ledge, allowing her fingertips to trail in the water. 

There was a girl about her age on TV, Tsumugi Shirogane according to the text on-screen. From what Himiko could tell, she was talking about Danganronpa 53 footage someone had leaked. Everything was taped beforehand, so seasons were re-done sometimes. If a killing game was a little lackluster, they just stuck a fresh cast in the simulation and redid it, the previous one languishing in obscurity, never to be seen. There were rumors that they erased all memories of the killing game from the first batch, but nobody had ever confirmed that. Anyway, 53 had apparently been one of those seasons. Himiko didn’t pay much attention to whatever Shirogane was saying. She wasn’t very interested in Danganronpa anymore, ever since they hadn’t even bothered to reject her properly for that very same season.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before someone sat down next to her. All she knew was that she opened her eyes, still laying there on the edge of the fountain, and everything clicked. She was gazing up into bright golden eyes, most of the stranger’s face covered by a mask. Her head was nearly brushing against their thigh, but for some reason, the proximity didn’t feel awkward, despite them being a stranger.

“Hello,” they said. Himiko couldn’t tell if it was just their voice, or if they sounded a little breathless.

“Hi.” Yep, her voice had that same quality to it, like all the air had been stolen from her lungs. If the ordinary waves of nostalgia were like being punched in the stomach, this was closer to being hit with a baseball bat. 

“Is it just me, or have we met before?”

“No, I don’t think it’s just you,” she murmured. Himiko couldn’t decide what to say or do next, but once again, her mouth acted on its own. “Kiyo.”

The stranger—Kiyo?—looked stunned. Himiko thought, from her upside down vantage point, that they might be blushing a little under the mask.

“How do you know my name?”

“I...I’m not sure.” Himiko sat up, voice shaking a little. “It just kinda...came out?”

“Well, I suppose proper introductions are in order, since we have quite a lot to talk about, yes? Shinguuji Korekiyo.”

“Yumeno Himiko.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Yumeno-san. Or...meet you again, as the case may be.”

“Yeah,” she murmured, offering a small smile. “Nice to meet you too. And...you can call me Himiko, I think. My subconscious called you Kiyo, after all.”

They chuckled at that, tucking a lock of hair behind their ear. Light reflected off the red of their nail polish, and somehow, she felt certain that she’d seen that exact shade before.

“Alright, Himiko. Now, tell me...did you by any chance audition for Danganronpa 53?”


End file.
